The Zombie Club
by Eri Sawachika
Summary: Four teens from radically different high school cliques are forced to work together during the zombie apocalypse - will they get along, or will the tension cause the downfall of the team?
1. For those about to rock

_So, The Zombie Club. Basically, the Breakfast Club (Teenagers from different cliques forced to work together) meets Left 4 Dead (zombies hurr). Also, chapter titles are named after song names. :)_

**Chapter ichi: For Those About To Rock**

FIRE!

He could barely see through the mop of black hair that covered his already short-sighted vision. He threw the molotov cocktail high in the air, as far as he could... And it landed not a few feet away from him. Cursing his faked sick notes and forged signatures he'd used to escape the shotput trials, he sprinted away from the already spreading fire and tripped over his own laces. Why couldn't he do his laces? Why did he even wear laces? It was pointless; this whole zombie thing was pointless.

He sat up on the wet grass, dew tickling his fingers as he fiddled valiantly with his mismatched laces. Tongue stuck out in a fit of concentration, the acclaimed "genius of Thornwood high" sat down amidst a wreath of burning flames, at the end of the world, and failed to do what every other sixteen year old had learnt ten years before.

Deciding against the fiddling and instead opting to just tuck the luminous strands into his DCs, the boy got on his feet, and started to run as fast as his legs would carry him. He ran up the steps and into the hellhole he called 'school' - hellhole before the zombies, hellhole after the zombies. Some things never change.

Surrounded by flames, threatened by death, and walking through a sea of corpses, the boy closed his mind to the world around him, as he so often did, and found his way to the staff lounge. On the table, not yet scorched by the flames of a hundred molotovs, sat two pistols. With a cry of delight that seemed almost juvenile, the boy picked up the guns and shoved some ammo into his deep jeans pockets. Examining the pistols, he found they were a P220 and a M1911. Doubting his own strength to contain the recoil of such light guns, he stuffed the smaller M1911 into his belt loop and made sure the P220 was filled before running out into the fire, grinning.

If those CEDA guys had been right about where the guns were, they were right about other stuff too. Safe houses, they'd said. Grab the guns and go to the red doors. Keep the houses stocked with whatever you find and take only what you need.

Smiling in the face of a slow and painful death, Tyrek Campbell ran for his life.

* * *

Screaming with delight as she mowed down zombies with the machine gun turret, the girl with the long brown hair; the introverted and shy individual; the one that no-one knew, was having the time of her life - just she'd promised she would.

"Silly girl!" Her teachers had said. "Video games, movies, TV programmes - anything but work! Why won't you do what's best for your life?"

"But when the zombies take over," the girl had replied, "And world war 3 takes it's toll; and there's a nuclear apocalypse and we're all sealed up in vaults; and the mutants take over; and the robots rule the Earth; that's when I'll work." Subsequently, she'd been kicked out of school after school, had countless phones and consoles confiscated, and had never made one good friend. Yet, she always put her faith in the chance that one day, just maybe, there would be enough of a movie-like video-game situation for her to prove her worth.

And that day had come.

She'd already taken care of her peers and her teachers; some of the first to be struck with the infection; and now she was helping the military defend the burning school as it was searched for survivors.

A heavy hand smacked her shoulder.

"That's good enough missy, but you should really get going!" A thick Scottish accent. This was the same officer that had granted her use of the machine turret. "The city's burning, so take what firearms you'll need and make your way to the safehouses."

"Safehouses?" She'd replied, confused.

"Aye, safehouses. Big red doors."

"But can't you evac us now?"

"Sorry missy, but we just ain't got the resources. I know CEDA's tryinga help an' all, but at this moment, we're just containing the green flu - evac is not an option."

"Ah, I see." Pretending to be dismayed, she had walked over to where the military were handing out guns to immune pedestrians and informing them of the acclaimed 'safe houses' - and that there was also safe evac on the other side of the city.

Grabbing the biggest gun she could carry, Tanwen Nia Jones ran for her life.

* * *

Easily the tallest and strongest in his class, the boy knocked down yet another wave of infected with only a crowbar and his own brute strength. He grinned, recalling his vigorous rugby training - put to good use once again. Stupid zombies, how could they think to stand up to him? Zombies were so easy to chop down.

Then there were the special ones - they all had names. Those smoking bastards were the easiest to kill; chop the tongue then shoot the head. Then, there were the hunters - more like a wild cat than a zombie, and as everyone knew; all cats were pussies. Boomers were a bit of a problem, but they exploded pretty easily if you shot 'em. There were also the head-humpin' jockeys, who were one of the hardest to kill - fast and annoying if anything. Chargers just ran at you like another rugby player and were easily dodged (the boy even fancied charging back at one), and spitters spat acid which you could just jump out of. Lastly, there were those crying girls; just avoid 'em. No point hitting a sad little girl.

Stupid zombies. So easy to kill. The boy fired his shotgun and grinned as one shell took down three zombies. He was really good at this. Too good. Man, they should restrict him from killing stuff before there were none left.

Taking the apocalypse as a walk through the park with his two best friends, the boy was almost starting to enjoy it before the friend on his left had shouted;

"What the fuck is that thing?" A large, muscular infected was throwing the others out of its way as it made its way toward them.

"I dunno, some kinda double charger?" Without contemplating the thought of a new breed of infected, the boy assumed his judgement was perfect.

The infected roared and threw a chunk of concrete at them; crushing the friend to his right. Before he could cry out in anguish, his other friend had tried to fight back; and lost to the beast's flailing fists.

Fists that struck him from the side and sent him flying through th air, only to land on his right shoulder. His arm was limp and felt broken.

Crippled and scared, Feoras Greystone ran for his life.

* * *

Looking through the scope of her sniper rifle, the girl expertly picked off more zombies. The ammo sashes and belt full of pain pills and pistols contrasted with her soft pink dress and long blonde hair; the last person one would expect to find happily cruising through the apocalypse.

Which was exactly why she was in the mafia.

Three times voted most likely to become beauty queen and supposedly the stupidest girl in her class, the most feared markswoman in the underground and expert actress sat in her bedroom, armed to the teeth and watching as people panicked below, in the front courtyard of her burning school. Raising her eyebrows slightly as she missed her mark and hit a zombie in the neck instead of the cranium, she contemplated evacuating. Wouldn't be as much fun as staying here to kill zombies. After all, she'd killed her father and was now head of the Liubov mafia; despite it consisting of only one person.

Tilting her head slightly and thinking about misguiding survivors or recruiting some into her new 'family', she smiled a private smile and turned to the corpse of her butler she'd left lying on the floor.

"See you later Jeeves!" She called, in her sweet high-pitched tone, and made her way down the stairs and out of the mansion, into the burning streets below. Her little lungs barely coping with the smoke, she tied her hair back with a pink ribbon to match her dress, put on her airhead act, and made her way to the nearest safehouse to find other survivors - but not before she'd managed to get her pink pumps and most of her dress covered in mud by being knocked over by a common infected. Biting her lip, she whipped out a pistol and shot the zombie once, twice, three times in the head. Nodding her head towards the twice-dead body and picking herself up, she wondered if she could make it to the safe rooms as her sister had.

Shooting any that threatened her, Bellini Orya Liubov ran for her life.

_So there's the introduction. Ty, Tanni, Fee, and Bella. You got the geek, the introvert, the jock and the beauty queen - but each stereotype has an anomaly or two attached to it. And yes, maybe these guys WILL eventually meet up with the other L4D survivors. This was just the before-they-met part._

_Hope you guys are liking it 'coz I love these guys so far. :3_

_~Frankie_


	2. Know your enemy

_Another chapter? Up so fast? :o I really have nought better to do and I'm still thinking up ideas for the next instalment to "Tales of the Infected" so here you go. _

**Chapter dos: Know Your Enemy**

Tyrek bolted through the door, slamming it shut and pulling the metal bar accross after him. If he was honest, he was quite handy with nought but a pistol and his own sharp wits. Examining his first safe room, he found a well-stocked kitchen area, a couch, a number of sleeping bags, and what he'd dubbed zombie-asskick-supplies; assorted ammo, pills, adrenaline shots, and bombs, as well as a pile of red packs which, on closer examination, contained bandages and (what Ty hoped were) morphine shots. Shuddering, he replaced the healing agents, hoping he'd never have to use them on himself, or worse - anyone else. He hated the thought of causing someone death through his shitty medical skills.

Looking out through the bars of the red door, Ty contemplated his disposition. Night had fallen, yet the city was smouldering and infested with zombies; a failed attempt to contain the infection. All day he'd been fighting them off and had found a safe room through no obvious course of action; he made a personal reminder to take the pens scattered on the floor and draw out arrows on the ground so that other lucky individuals may follow in his footsteps.

As he gazed upon the dark streets and alleys, the faint moan of undisrupted zombies hung in the air - the zombies he'd disturbed, he'd killed. All was quiet outside, and the night was tranquil, as the boy with the messy black hair recalled the day so far... Never had he thought he'd find himself here, doing this; never. And ye-

"HELLO!" The silence was broken by a head that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. Groping for his beloved pistols, Ty tried to aim at the door.

"No! Don't shoot me! I'm not a zombie!" The head laughed and let itself in, reaching through the bars to unbolt the door. Ty cursed himself for not thinking to barricade it.

The owner of the happy voice was a girl; seemingly younger than him, and with long brown hair, flowing straight past her shoulders. She wore a black hoodie and jeans, coupled with scuffed trainers and fingerless gloves. She too, had been fighting the horde, for although her face was pretty and her brown eyes shone brightly, Ty's eyes were drawn to the stains of blood and bile on her dark garments; and the sheer size of the guns she carried compared to her height (or lack thereof); he wondered how she could even pick up the combat rifle, AK-47 and M60 she carried with her.

"I'm Tyrek," he said, the break the silence after the girl had bolted the door behind her, and laid her weapons on the floor. "Tyrek Campbell; but you can call me Ty. Or D."

"Dee?" The girl seemed confused.

"D as in Delta; like this see;" Ty made a triangle shape with his left index finger and right index and middle fingers. It was his symbol; Delta.

"I... see..." The girl looked confused. "Well Dee, it's sure nice to meet ya. I'm Tanni - Tanwen Nia Jones. And it's okay; I don't have any weird triangle name or shit. I'm just Tanni."

Ty smiled and held out his hand. "Looks like we're partners in fighting zombies now, huh?"

"Yup!" Tanni smiled back and, ignoring Ty's outstretched hand embraced him in a big bear hug. Ty was taken aback by Tanni's behaviour, even in a zombie apocalypse. She was bouncing and happy and filled with positive energy; as if her life finally had meaning.

A sarcastic voice from the door interrupted the introduction.

"Oh please, spare me the humility and let me in already." A blonde-haired girl wearing a pink headband stood tall in the doorway, either unable to or just outright refusing to unbar the door. Ty searched for the owner of the voice.

"Here, it's me." The girl sighed. "Yes, I know, butter wouldn't melt is being a sarky, but if you don't let me in I would be inclined to shoot you." Even Tanni seemed shocked that a death threat and snarling voice could belong to such a sweet looking girl.

"I, uh, sure," Ty stuttered as he walked to unbolt the door. A shadow passed over Tanni's face but she said no more on the matter, save

"I'm heading off to bed now," And grabbing a sleeping bag and her guns, walked up the stairs hidden behind a velvet curtain in the corner, eyeing the new arrival as she passed. Ty shook his head at the blonde.

"Look, I'm really sorry about her, she's just... yeah." He bit his lip. What should he say to her? She was standing, waiting for him to bolt the door back up. He knew he should make her do it; she wasn't queen of the zombies. As he opened his mouth to protest, the blonde girl raised her pistol and shot a smoker that Ty hadn't noticed trying to creep in behind her without turning around. She raised an eyebrow.

"Liubov. Bellini Orya Liubov." Bella turned and bolted the door for herself, seeing as Ty was just standing there with his mouth hanging open, amazed that she knew there was a smoker behind her and then shot it dead with a pistol without looking.

"You... Um.. That.. So, pistols... Italian?" Was all he could manage. Tanni poked her head around the velvet curtain; she'd been eavesdropping.

"Russian, actually. Never heard of the Liubov mafia? Yeah, probably 'coz you're so sheltered. Well they control the underworld and that there's the boss's youngest daughter. He disclaimed his other daughter after she said she didn't want to get involved in the family business. You know, this reminds of that one time-"

"Do you ever shut up?" Bella had her pistol aimed at Tanni. She stared into the barrel of the gun, gave a quick half-nod, and absconded behind the curtain, her scuffed shoes banging on the stairs as she made her way to bed.

Ty was severely confused. All Tanni had done was recall Bella's past for the benefit of himself, and yet Bella had so quickly threatened her; just as quickly Tanni had subsided. He'd never understand women.

After taking a swig of the vodka she'd found in the fridge (and with a "Aren't we both a bit young for that?" from Ty that was easily ignored) Bella shook her hair out of her ribbon and pushed back the velvet curtain, following Tanni to bed. Once again, Ty was left on his own, but not for long.

He sighed and pressed his forehead against the wall; just as a loud clattering came from the direction of the door. "Come in, don't be a bitch." By now, Ty was tired of new allies that decided to show up in the dead of night.

He was answered by a surprisingly gruff voice; "Keep yer knickers on, I'm only armed to the teeth with guns an' grenades. Not like I can do anything to ya." Ty turned to see a tall man in a rugby jersey; over six foot tall and built to kill by his reckoning. They could use a guy like him; hell, they could use a guy full stop.

Ty stumbled over to him and shook his hand through half closed eyes. "Ty. You?" Being too knackered to even talk, he wanted to get the formalities over and done with.

"I'm Feoras Greystone - my friends call me Fee." Ty noticed the man's injured arm;

"Health packs in corner, close door, go to bed." He could manage no more before slouching on the sofa and closing his eyes; not even making it upstairs.

_Hurr next chapter. I like these people. This was from Ty's PoV but tell me if I'm not switching enough; I don't want to pick out a main character from the four._

_~Frankie_


End file.
